


Et Tu es à Moi

by ghostlace



Category: Professional Wrestling, World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Feelings Realization, Hurt/Comfort, Kayfabe Compliant, Kevin is in love, Kevin loves his boy, M/M, Pining, Sami feels a lot of things, Sami feels like he isn't worth it, rapid french revision
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-01
Updated: 2018-05-01
Packaged: 2019-04-30 22:14:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,466
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14506611
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ghostlace/pseuds/ghostlace
Summary: Their conversation had devolved into rapid French, as it always did when they were both stressed. Sami especially couldn’t keep control of what language he slipped into, sometimes a rush of Arabic would torrent from his mouth like a dam had burst and other times he found French lurking on the tip of his tongue.





	Et Tu es à Moi

**Author's Note:**

> Raw left me with a lot of feelings about Sami taking everything thrown at him so I had to dump to get them out. Most of the French is hurriedly remembered and is probably a little off and I asked my friend for help with the only Arabic (though its all pretty regional so... not entirely accurate). Anyway I just like the idea of Sami and Kev babbling French when they're stressed!

Sami could barely see as he stumbled backstage, Kevin’s footfalls weighty behind him. He felt sick. One too many impacts had knocked him, though he was aware of a weird gladness not to have eaten the pin. Not glad that Kevin had though. He wouldn’t have minded so much if it was Mahal, it was personal when it was Kevin. His best friend had hit the mat with a sound that knocked even him breathless as he lay there and it was all he could do to watch. He was powerless, defeated and he couldn’t even rescue his best friend. He had clung to his friend at the foot of the ramp, Kevin more lost than he had seen him in a long time. It wasn’t the ecstatic hug the crowd… their crowd (Oh it was their crowd, no doubt about that, hometown heroes) had wanted to see. Instead all they found was the sting of defeat as he stared upwards at the men who insisted on taking everything from them. He thought about the blows and the dizzy feeling he couldn’t shake. He was a punching bag, only good for bumps. He felt less than. Kevin could hold his own against the three other men (Jinder too… he guessed) but Sami just had to roll with the punches.

“Sami, are you hurt?” There was a pause as Kevin hurried to keep up with him even in his state before he repeated his question in French “ _Est-ce que tu es blessé?”_

" _Oui”_

_"Sami! Où? Reviens!”_

Their conversation had devolved into rapid French, as it always did when they were both stressed. Sami especially couldn’t keep control of what language he slipped into, sometimes a rush of Arabic would torrent from his mouth like a dam had burst and other times he found French lurking on the tip of his tongue. His hands found the door to the locker room and he pushed it open, ignoring Kevin’s rumbling protests that Sami had to get medical attention, that he was hurt. Sure he was hurt, but he wasn’t entirely sure the things he was feeling were just down to Lashley, Reigns or Strowman. Winning with Kevin felt like flying, losing felt like letting him down. In fact, he’d go so far as to say there was nothing that the trainers or medical staff could do for him.

Sami’s knees collided with a bench and he let out a sharp hiss through gritted teeth. Kevin made a concerned noise and slid an arm around his friend, guiding him to a place where they could both sit down. The action sent the butterflies in Sami’s stomach reeling.

“ _Qu'est ce qui se passe avec toi_? Sami, please talk to me”

“We lost” Sami mumbled quietly into Kevin’s ear. He didn’t have to be quiet, there was nobody in their locker room, but he insisted on curling his head into Kevin’s neck to talk to him. He wanted reassurance that he wasn’t imagining Kevin holding him upright. He paused as Kevin eased him down, hand refusing to slip from his waist, before muttering quietly to himself “ _J’ai perdu"_

The feeling of disappointment in himself was overwhelming. He wrapped his arms around himself, wriggling out of Kevin’s grasp.

 _“Non! Non, mon ange_ , no.” Kevin had heard him. The words jolted through Sami like a current of electricity. _Mon ange_ , he had said it so casually, as if Kevin actually meant it. His angel… it was stupid enough in English in the ring, never mind French in an empty locker room. He initiated a bleary-eyed staring contest with the floor “ _Ce n'est pas de ta faute_ , never is you, Sami, you were brilliant”

“Up until I wasn’t”

"You’re always perfect”

“You’re clearly missing what everyone sees, Kev”

Kevin’s hands found his face and cradled it and just for a moment, Sami was lifetimes away in the indies. He was between matches when Kevin had been talking to him and he just couldn’t listen. He was in his own head, wringing his mask violently in his hands. He had been all nerves over something stupid he was sure, and then Kevin had grabbed him and cupped his face. He’d been terrified for a moment before his eyes alighted on Kevin’s smile and he could almost lean forward before Kevin could continue and- “I’m missing nothing but my best friend’s irritating smile”

That broke the spell. Kevin dropped his hands and suddenly there was nothing for Sami but an empty locker room and Kevin Owens. No shitty half-assed locker room cloaked by curtains, just shiny metal and unforgiving walls. Kevin was always the same though, through Steen or Owens. He gazed sadly at his best friend, searching his eyes for any hints of recollection. He found none and resigned himself to glowering at his knees. He was stupid to assume that Kevin would ever remember things like that, let alone think the same way about it.

“Sami, what are you thinking about”

“Kevin, I don’t know how much longer I can do this”

“Do what? Fight Roman? Come on, he’s not all that and besides you practically nearly-“

“No... I mean… I take these bumps, these hits without argument, every week for no payoff, Kevin. There’ll be no championship, no belt, just me on my ass to people like Lashley every week” He was in full flow now, his cheeks reddening with embarrassment “I’m no good to stand on my own for one minute without falling short, _Je suis toujours inutile_ , and you… always so good” His voice broke on the last syllable and he shut his eyes tightly. God he couldn’t even attempt to compliment Kevin right.

He felt his friend’s big hands find his, warm and inviting as Kevin’s always were for him. Kevin traced his thumb over his fingers, a warmth growing in his stomach.

“Sami, you aren’t useless, you’re anything but in fact, you get up week after week, day after day, and put on the show of your life over and over again. You never cease to amaze me, Sami Zayn” He pulled Sami’s hands upwards, clutching them against his chest with a soft smile. Sami opened his eyes just enough to watch his friend’s movements under his lashes “You’re amazing and always have been, you’re my partner…” He paused before correcting himself, gazing at his friend with nothing short of adoration, he added quietly “ _Non, tu es mon cœur_ , nothing without you”

“ _Et tu es à moi_ , Kevin”

There was a moment of silence as Kevin’s brain attempted to catch up with Sami’s quiet words. He studied Sami’s hand tucked inside his own, trying to make the best out of the confusion. Sami gazed at his friend open mouthed as Kevin lifted his hand to his mouth. He softly kissed his knuckles, Kevin’s beard tickling slightly and Sami, despite his shock, couldn’t help but smile, trying his hardest not to laugh at the motion.

“Are you laughing at me? Oh fuck, you weren’t…” He asked as he froze against Sami’s hand. His face reddened and he pulled away, a motion that made Sami’s stomach drop about 15 floors “Fuck, sorry”

“ _Non_ , Kevin, I just… come here” Sami reached out for Kevin, tugging him forward in determination. They stared at each other for a moment before Sami leant forward slowly. He’d waited long enough to finish the moment they’d had so many years ago.

He wasn’t however, expecting Kevin to grab him and smash his lips against his friends desperately. They clung to each other on the bench like two people lost at sea, Sami mumbling a breathless mix of French, Arabic and English every time they broke apart. He was unsure what he was saying half the time, he didn’t know what Kevin could actually pick up on, but Kevin himself was chanting Sami’s name like a prayer, hands running over every inch of skin they could reach.

"Sami”

“Kevin, _tu es_ … fuck what’s the word- _habibi_ ”

“I understood virtually none of that, shut up and come here” The corners of his lips were twitching as he pulled Sami into his lap. He wrapped him up in his arms, Sami nuzzling into the side of his neck with… was that a purr? Kevin nearly choked with laughter as he extracted the other man from around him “Sami Zayn… you are… an angel, my angel”

“I’ve always been yours, Kevin, since-“

“forever, Sami, since forever, I’ve been yours too”

They paused, staring at each other with wide eyes. Sami could feel it, the growing warmth in his chest spreading through every fibre of his being. They pressed their foreheads together, caught between smiles and soft kisses.

“ _Tu es mon cœur, Sami Zayn_ ”

“ _Et tu es à moi, toujours et à jamais_ ”


End file.
